Reece smiles over at her, and every jealous bone in my body wants to shatter him to pieces.
Wynter is mine.
When did I become this possessive over her? He catches my glare and smirks at me, evidence that he knows how his flirting with her is killing me. “I’m glad you like it, Wynter.”
“Where on earth did you learn to cook like this?” I hear Addison ask him.
“My mom taught me. Said I wouldn’t ever get a lady if I couldn’t cook dinner.”
“Oh, that’s actually sweet.” She’s Bugs Bunny with hearts in her eyes over my best friend. Me? I’m glad they’ve found each other. I hope their love is something like a Disney movie.
Our best friends are proving to be the love at first sight type and it’s magical, and I want it for myself, with the one person avoiding all contact tonight.
My attention turns back to Wynter. I’m at my wit’s end with the silence between us. “Hey,” I say, tapping her foot under the table. “What happened to you this afternoon?”
She finally makes eye contact with me for the first time tonight. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I left.” She shrugs her shoulders like it doesn’t matter, but her eyes betray her. She tries to keep her face the same facade as always. Cold as ice, hard as stone. Pretending not to let me in. Not even a facial reaction to me.
Earlier today, the charade had slipped, lifting the mask slightly and revealing a different side to Wynter. A side that isn’t always polished and poised. It made me realize that some moments she is simply Wynter.
I wonder though. Does something flutter inside her gut? Are my thoughts as dangerous as the feelings I’m hiding from her? She’s ice waiting for the perfect heat to melt and I want to be that for her.
We eat the rest of dinner listening to the lovebirds chat back and forth. He chuckles, she giggles. A couple times I catch Wynter smiling, watching them, yet her eyes never grace mine again. Before I could handle the hate, the cold, but this new Wynter. I hate it. I’m going to need GPS to navigate the ice sculpture she’s erected between us. I want to take a hammer to it and chip away slowly, but that won’t solve any of my problems.
She excuses herself when Reece starts cleaning up to use the restroom, and I follow her. As the door closes, I stick my foot in to stop it. “What are you doing?” she hisses at me. I push the door open, inviting myself in without her approval.
“What’s going on, Chief?”
“Nothing, can’t a girl go pee in private around here?”
I smirk at her. “I’ve been told it’s more fun with friends…”
“Well, we’re not friends so you can leave now.”
I reach out to touch her, expecting her to pull back, but my hand lands on the soft skin of her neck. Taking a step closer, I box her in against the sink in the bathroom.
“We’re more than friends, Wyn. I’ve been inside you.”
She scoffs, not making eye contact. “It. Was. A. Hate. Fuck.”
I trace my fingers up her neck, watching as goosebumps pepper her creamy porcelain skin. She tries to turn away, but I keep hold of her, dragging my thumb along her jaw before letting it fall away. It’s a moment like Eric and Ariel share in the boat scene inThe Little Mermaid. I want to kiss the girl. “Then tell me why your skin flushes every time I touch it? Or why you bite your lip like you’re thinking about all the dirty things I could do to your body if we were alone. Or why you can’t stop thinking about me like my mind always drifts to you?”
Her voice gets quiet. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s a lie. Counterfeit emotions will only run skin deep. It meant nothing, just a release. I don’t like you.”
“Look at you. You can barely say it out loud. It’s okay to like me, to like this. You whisper hate in words, but your body tells me a different story.” My fingers trail across her bottom lip, and I don’t miss the quick intake of breath. “You want me,” I tell her softly.
“In your dreams, Croix.” She throws my last name out like it's acid.
“Well, when you go out tonight and get drinks, remember that you wish it were me. Think of my hands when someone else is touching you. Think of me when someone else kisses the lips that belong to me. Think of me when he asks you to leave with him and then promise me you won’t. I will win that heart of yours, Wynter, maybe not today. It may take days or months, but I’m ready for this. For us.”
She shakes her head. “What makes you think we would even work?”
“What makes you think we won’t?” I retort.
Sighing, she finally meets me in the eye. “I can’t fall in love with you, Weston. Love is a lie fairy tales tell us to make us believe in something bigger than ourselves.”
“I’m not asking for love. I’m only asking for you. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”
“No.” One word. That’s all she said.